


Burning Fear

by NotNecessarilyInThatOrder



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anymore Than The Show Did, Arthur Sort Of Does Too But He Needs Reminding, But I Don't Want To Traumatize Anyone, But They Deal With It Because Their Mature Now, Druids Show Up, Everyone Knows About Merlin, Everyone's Part Of This They're Just Not All Named, Gen, Gwen Helps Too, Happy Ending Has Happened But There Is Still Work To Be Done, It Gets Kind Of Emotional, Merlin And Arthur Are Honest With The People, Merlin And Arthur Work Together To Solve Problems, Merlin Knows This, Mostly By Making Sure They Understand One Another, Oh And If A Character's Not Tagged Just Assume They're There, Overcoming Fear, Overcoming prejudice, Post Camlann, Post Season 5, Probably Doesn't Need To Be Teen, References To Camelot's Preferred Method Of Disposing Sorcerers, The Ban Is Over But People Are Still Afraid, They're Mostly Cool With It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14097342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotNecessarilyInThatOrder/pseuds/NotNecessarilyInThatOrder
Summary: A year ago Arthur wouldn't have been the least bit bothered by a sorcerer falling to their knees in terror. But now magic is free. Now his people live in peace, with nothing to fear from each other. Don't they? Why is Merlin not surprised by this turn of events? And - most importantly - what can they do to fix the problem? (Post S5 AU) T because of references to burning.





	Burning Fear

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some time ago (first time I truly understood what it meant to get attacked by a plot bunny) and I've edited it a bunch since then. It's quite a bit longer than I originally planned but the characters wouldn't stop talking and I found I liked what they had to say. Eventually this could be part of a bigger "happy ending" universe but it stands on it's own just fine. Hope you enjoy! :)

If pressed Arthur Pendragon would admit that there were times in his life where he’d gotten terribly confused by events he’d witnessed. But what happened that particular morning was making him reevaluate just how far the limits of his confusion could go, and leaving him frustrated beyond belief in the process.

Especially considering that he was currently in private conference with Gwen and Merlin, an event that was supposed to be one of the more relaxing parts of his day. A time when the heavy mantle of responsibility eased just a little, and decisions could be made without all the background scheming and private agendas that were all too common in the ordinary realm of politics. A time of honest conversation and planning with the only two people he trusted wholeheartedly. Or it would be if he could only stop the whirlwind of thoughts racing about inside his head.

“Arthur have you heard a word I’ve been saying?” Startled out said thoughts by the queen’s voice, he looked up quickly to see two sets of eyes watching him curiously.

“What Guinevere?” The curiosity on the other’s faces turned to amusement and Arthur felt a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Sorry, I was thinking.” Something in his tone forestalled any further teasing, and their expressions changed once again. This time into a kind of patient questioning, a promise to listen to what was troubling him.

He met their encouragement honestly. “I’m still in disbelief at the way that women reacted to me,” he explained. “She was being attacked, she defended herself, and yet when I showed up to help she panicked more than she had been when those men were threatening her.”

“You’re the king and she used magic, Arthur. It’s only natural for her to have been afraid.”

“Natural?” The king brow creased in worry as he turned toward his friend. “Merlin, I lifted the ban almost a year ago. There shouldn’t be any reason for people to be falling at my feet in tears over something that no one can lawfully object to them having.”

“You can’t just expect people to change their feelings because the law says it’s okay.” Merlin responded, respect for his king’s sincerity the only thing keeping him from groaning in exasperation. “They’ve lived in fear their entire lives, and there are still plenty of people in Camelot who would hurt them if they could get away with it. Those who are against magic and are furious at you for changing the rules on them. So they can’t make an overt show of opposition against you, but you can bet they have numerous ways of expressing their feelings that no one will ever see. And the ones they persecute are so conditioned to lying low and not causing trouble that they’re too afraid to stand up for themselves. Yes magic is legal, but a lot of them still don’t really know where they stand. So if someone makes a move against them, they can’t be sure that there’s anyone out there who’ll back them up.” Merlin leaned forward, finally meeting his king’s gaze. “Arthur, I’m still nervous for those outside our close circle to see what I’m capable of, and I know you’d be on my side if something bad happened.”

Arthur kept eye contact long enough to read the sincerity in his friend’s eyes before looking away. A part of him had known this to be true but when after the first month or two he hadn’t heard anything major when it came to the issue he’d, naively it now appeared, hoped that Camelot was adapting to the new order of things in the same way he had. Then again no, his way of adapting probably wasn’t the best example to follow when it came to that.

He’d known what would have to happen if he allowed magic to heal him, what it meant for the future. Refusing to be a hypocrite in the way he’d sadly discovered his father had been, Arthur understood that magic couldn’t just have an acceptable use on his behalf. He would have to find a way to make those benefits available for everyone in his kingdom. A way to bring about the fair and just Albion he dreamed of.

Merlin had been a big part of that process, slow though it had been. Arthur’s last memory before collapsing from the pain of his wound had been of thanking his friend for all he’d done up until then. And he’d truly been proud to be able to acknowledge the other man as a friend at that point. Despite the small amount of lingering hurt, it was one of the few things in his life that just seemed right.

After he’d been healed and brought home the two of them had been able to talk and with the help of Gwen, Gaius, and a few others, had actually managed to resolve several of their issues surprisingly quickly. But learning to change the way they almost instinctively worked around each other instead of with each other was difficult. Not to mention the way Arthur couldn’t help but startle the first few times he’d seen Merlin do something that he would have considered impossible not long ago. And do it so casually. Merlin had noticed immediately of course and that had led to numerous awkward explanations and excuses on both side which probably would have continued indefinitely if it weren’t for Gwen practically slapping them both upside the head and telling them to stop being idiots.

She, it was a relief to say, had had no issues with Merlin’s power, choosing all along to see him for the person he was, not the skills he had. Yes he was a bit different now (and wasn’t that an understatement) but people changed throughout their lives anyway. She loved Merlin and so did Arthur, and Merlin loved both of them so it was time to get over it.

If only that attitude would work for the rest of Albion.

“So we have to do something,” Arthur said, finally dragging his mind away from the past and back to the current topic. “We know no one thing can make people give up their fears, but a big enough gesture could encourage them to start the process. There has to be a way to prove to them that Camelot is no longer a place where they have to live in fear. That the change in law wasn’t a joke or a trick.”

Gwen had been quiet up to this point but this statement caused her to speak up. “Merlin?” she asked. “What was it that scared you the most when you had to keep your power a secret? What were you most afraid of happening if someone found out?” She held her breath, asking this was a risk but some instinct told her it was the right track.

“Easy” Merlin replied, “I didn’t want to die.”

He meant it to sound like a joke, but that didn’t stop the wince from hitting Arthur’s face, or the queen’s for that matter. Silence stretched out between them and Merlin sighed. “There were a lot of things Gwen, you know that.”

Her lack of reply hinted that she wanted something specific. Thankfully both her and Arthur were willing to wait quietly while the warlock made up his mind.

“I guess a big one was I didn’t want to burn,” he finally answered, vision clouded with painful memories. “The thought of being on that pyre, feeling those flames rip into me, knowing how long it would take... It was a nightmare that came at least once a week.”

Gwen closed her eyes as wave of coldness passed through her. She’d experienced that same fear twice her life, and the dreams of it had persisted until long after Uther’s death. A touch on her arm startled her and she opened her eyes to twin gazes full of concern. Quickly putting on a tight smile she squeezed her husband’s hand, nodding for Merlin to continue.

“And it wasn’t always me on there in the dream. Sometimes it was you” Merlin nodded to her, “sometimes Gaius, sometimes random children I would see in the marketplace. It could have been anyone, that was the scariest part. There didn’t even have to be proof to send someone to the fire. Can you imagine it?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “One minute you’re going about your day and the next you or someone you love is dragged before the king in chains because someone out of ignorance, or spite, or just plain wickedness, accused you of practicing ‘evil’. And no amount of logic, or pleading, or common sense, would sway the mind of a king so blinded by hatred he didn’t care whose life he ruined. To be forced to stand there and watch as the person you loved most in the world was burned to death like so much rubbish. To have their screams haunt your every waking hour. And to know that if you did anything to stop it you would be the next one consigned to the same fate.”

Shaking his head to clear the rapidly collecting tears from his eyes he suddenly noticed the gouges he’d been angrily scratching into the soft wood of the tabletop.

“Um so yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck then placed his hands in his lap. “I can fix that,” he said, sheepishly pointing to the marks. “Just let me grab a cloth and maybe some polish, yeah polish. There has to be some somewhere..”

Arthur forced a swallow down his suddenly parched throat and grabbed at Merlin’s hand, arresting his movement. “No, leave it, it’s fine,” he choked. “Sit down Merlin,” he insisted in a slightly stronger voice when his friend didn’t stop trying to get away.  

After a minute the younger man obeyed although he still wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. He seemed ashamed at telling his king and best friend what he had really thought of his father’s practices, but in truth said king couldn’t be more grateful.

This was one matter he had truly come to disagree with Uther on, not in the very beginning, but certainly by the time he truly understood the nature of crime versus punishment. Sure, maybe some of the people who practiced magic did deserve to die, but there was no reason they couldn’t have been more merciful about how that death happened.

After the reality of having seen Gaius facing death by burning had sunk in, Arthur had sworn to himself that when he was king he would do away with the practice. He’d kept his word, but something told him five years wasn’t nearly enough time to erase the memories. Five hundred years probably wouldn’t be enough. Unless…

Catching his friend’s eye he gave a secretive half smile. “Merlin, I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.”

                                                                              *****************************

No words were spoken as the crowd filing into the courtyard caught sight of the massive structure front of them, but one and all reacted to the sight. Some burst into silent tears, the image emphasizing a lifetime of sorrow. Dread filled the minds of others, each of them certain in their own mind they knew who would soon be led out before them. Anxiously they scanned the surrounding mass of human population, hoping and praying to spot their loved one looking back at them, proving their fears to be wrong.

A few - not many, but too many at the same time - were surveying the scene with an almost gleeful sense of happiness. In their opinion it had been far too long since a sorcerer burned in Camelot. Now at last their young king was rejecting the foolish notions he’d been entertaining for the past year, and was bringing his rule back around to the ways his father had established when the then prince was still newly in his cradle.

He could be forgiven for the lapse in judgement they decided. He had been too young when he took the throne and someone (they could easily guess who) had been taking advantage of his soft heart. Now it seemed he’d woken up to the fact. Today would be a first step to putting the these powerful, despicable people back where they would never be able to exert that kind of influence over the king - or anyone else for that matter - ever again.

These thoughts were interrupted, rudely or gratefully depending on your point of view, by the arrival of the king himself. Although how he appeared confused the picture those unsavory ones were forming in their minds.

His look and manner was nothing like how a man pronouncing judgement should be. Instead of presiding over the execution on the balcony above them as was tradition, Arthur strode purposefully out the front of the castle, his queen and knights trailing after him. His brightly polished crown adorned his head and in the light breeze his scarlet cape flourished strikingly, but otherwise the rest of his attire was nothing but a simple dark tunic, trousers and boots. Not even the full battle armor he usually had on at public appearances.

The picture was shattered completely when those in question spotted the dark haired young man at his side. The one who acted as his untitled but blatantly obvious chief adviser. Merlin too was dressed slightly different than what the people were used to seeing him in. In recent months he’d started shedding the baggy jacket and neck scarf he habitually wore, and today stood beside his king in just a plain grey shirt, black trousers, and boots. The clothes were nice enough, not exactly befitting someone with the newfound authority he wielded, but that didn’t surprise anyone. To tell the truth, they’d given up being surprised about anything concerning the man they’d spent the last decade coming to know.

After the battle that defeated Morgana, it had been revealed that the gentle, kind hearted, manservant/physician’s assistant that had been their king’s shadow for years was also a powerful sorcerer. And, if you believed some of his friends, he had been the one to single handedly ensure Camelot’s victory in the fight, as well as see to it that the king was healed from the fatal wound he had received during the fighting.

All this had come as quite the shock. Sure, Merlin had always been a bit odd, but no one would have guessed that to be the result of anything more than an ordinary young man being thrust into a position slightly out of his depth, and that which he never would have chosen for himself. Those with a deeper grasp of magic and the fear it could create even in those who wielded it, realized that of course that’s how the man would have to present himself if he wanted to avoid the very scenario they were paying witness to at this moment.  

Coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Arthur gazed at his subjects huddled closely together in front of him. Most of them were succeeding in keeping the blank faces that were expected when a public execution was taking place. But now that Merlin had tipped him off, the king could clearly see the fear and disgust in their eyes. Fear of the 10 foot tall pole and massive pile of wood on display in front of them, and disgust at being forced to watch some poor innocent lose their life on it.

The thought made Arthur sick, and one glance at his pale faced servant turned trusted friend, told him he needed to get on with this quickly before he lost the faith of his people. People he would rather die than risk condemning to that kind of fear any longer. Taking a deep breath he gave Merlin a subtle nudge with his elbow under the cover of his cape.

“You ready?” he asked softly, barely twitching his lips.

“As I’ll ever be,” Merlin answered just as quietly.

“Let’s do this then.” Stepping to the middle of the yard Arthur raised his voice to address the populace. “People of Camelot, I don’t have to tell you what this is,” he gestured to the monstrosity not five feet from where he stood, suddenly wanting nothing more than to rip it down with his bare hands.

‘ _Patience_ ’ he told himself _‘that will happen soon enough_ ’.

“For almost 30 years these pyres have been a symbol of terror and destruction. People who had committed no crimes were sentenced to burn for nothing but the barest accusation of possessing magic. Through no fault of their own, families and friends were forced to watch as those they loved were torn from this world in one of the most despicable ways possible. They were forced to live with those memories and anyone who had any hint of their own powers were forced to hide them, knowing that if anyone found out they would be the next to burn.” He paused to gauge reactions. Most of the people looked stunned, as if they couldn’t remember a time when a king had seemed this genuinely honest about their plight. A few seemed suspicious, wondering if this wasn’t some kind of trick and a few others were looking at him with something like hope in their eyes. Arthur latched onto that hope and continued:

“When I became king I swore to myself that I would never order another one of these fires to be lit for as long as I ruled. I promised that no one, sorcerer or ordinary citizen, would suffer that fate. I made another promise 11 months ago when I set out the law that those who choose to practice magic peacefully in this land could do so without persecution. But I know how easily promises can be broken. How often it is that a King will go back on his word knowing that no one can punish him for it.

“So my intention today is to do more than just speak words. I intend to show all of you, those with skills you’ve learned and those few of you who have skills you were born with, that you have nothing to fear from the land you have chosen to make your home.”

A murmur swept through the crowd as a tall man with graying hair and forest green cloak approached the king from one of the side entrances to the courtyard. He was followed by a group of about ten others all wearing earth toned colored cloaks. Most had their hoods pushed back, revealing faces ranging in age from about eighty to about five.

The man in the lead who was carrying an intricately carved wooden staff, stopped in front of Arthur and inclined his head to the king, a gesture he acknowledged with a nod. The man then shocked the crowd by turning to Merlin and offering the same greeting. Actually his manner seemed slightly more reverent toward him then toward the king.

Merlin gave a small bow in return and threw Arthur a bemused, “what can you do” type of shrug, making the king shake his head slightly. Gwaine would see to it he never heard the end of this he was sure. Reminding himself that wasn’t important at the moment, Arthur turned his attention back to his people.    

“Who among you, during all the time my father ruled, would have imagined a day where the druids would not only frequent Camelot once again but be welcome to do so? They have long been a part of this land, have cared for it and protected it in ways I could not understand if I lived a thousand years. They have the power to rule if they chose, but they do not take advantage of that ability. They choose to guide, and to serve, and to live their lives in a way that brings hope to those who are afraid. To heal those who are injured in mind and in body.

“And they ask no reward. For as long as I and many of you have been alive, they were hunted and destroyed for gifts they had very little choice in acquiring. Would anyone blame them for seeking retribution for this? Yet in the years since the persecution against them ended not a single incident of violence or intolerance have they caused. They have not attacked anyone, townsman or traveller, with their magic or any other resource. Nor have they stolen so much as a single sprig of herbs from anyone within these walls. Can you say that of any other group of people? If you disagree please, feel free to answer.”

The king held his people’s gaze, expression open and encouraging, but no one murmured dissent. After a long moment he continued, “When I finally recognized the true depth of injustice brought about on those with magic during both my father’s reign and the start of my own, I sought them out. Not only the clan leaders of the Druids, but anyone who was willing to trust me enough to speak with me.

“I told them I knew nothing could erase the memories, nothing could truly atone for the atrocious way they’ve been treated these past thirty years. But I asked them, begged them, to tell me what it was they wanted from the future. Anything within my power I would have granted them without hesitation. They could have asked for the world and I would have tried to give it to them.” He didn’t look at Merlin but it’s clear to all the words were at least half meant for him alone. No one questions that. A few even smile at the declaration.

“From everyone I talked to, there was only one thing requested of me.” Arthur gestured to the druid man, directing him to speak.

“We asked to live our lives without fear.” The man said, voice low and serious.

“Imagine that,” Arthur laughed softly, “no riches, no power, no glory. They didn’t ask for the head of every man, woman, and child that ever hurt them. None of the things that could be viewed as an equal form of compensation. Just a life free from fear. Does that sound evil to you? Does not each and every one of you wish for the same thing?

“From the time I was old enough to hold a sword, my life has been dedicated to making that dream come true for all in this land. And I’m sorry to admit that it’s taken certain events of this past week to open my eyes to just how badly I’ve been failing. For as long as anyone, whether they have magic or not, spends one day living in fear of their lives from their very friends and neighbors I will not have met my goal. To prove that all, regardless of beliefs, are citizens of Albion, with all the rights that that includes. That all are free to spend time in Camelot if they so choose, free to trade, work, and live here under our laws and that anyone who attempts to harm them physically or cheat them in any way will be subject to full punishment by those same laws.”

“With all due respect Sire, how can you expect us to believe this is possible?” The crowd turned with no little amount of surprise to the richly dressed man who now spoke up. Face twisting in a sneer, he glared at the Druid leader who returned his look levelly.

Two guards approached ready to seize the man who dared interrupt the king, but Arthur raised his hand stopping them.“If you have a legitimate concern to voice by all means do so now.” Arthur’s voice was steady but the sarcasm was apparent to all who knew him.

The nobleman was oblivious to it. “My Lord,” he began the honorific used almost as an afterthought, “how can you say you will hold these people subject to Camelot's laws when you know that is not possible. No magic can be bound to the laws of man. It is a wild, tameless beast that cannot be harnessed. That is why the late king, your esteemed father, ordered it destroyed in the first place. How do we know this time of peace has not been a ruse? You can’t guarantee that they won’t turn on us. How can we keep ourselves safe against them?”

It takes all of the self control that had been drilled into him his whole life for Arthur to contain the sigh. Before he can respond however a voice speaks up from behind him.

“By doing the same things you’ve always done,” the voice says and Arthur can only hope the man it belongs to knows what he’s doing.                                                                                 

                                                                            *******************************

 _‘Arthur can’t do this alone’’_ Merlin realized as soon as the nobleman started launching into his too well rehearsed objections.

Things had been going well up until that point. The crowd responded to the druids’ appearance with barely a murmur, although as Arthur’s pointed out their presence isn’t exactly rare nowadays. A few odd looks had been given at Iseldir’s greeting to him but since their king didn’t seem offended no one questioned the matter. And Arthur appears to have them convinced of his sincerity in wanting freedom for all his people. He’d even managed to slip in a little hint of the depth of the friendship he shares with his servant - adviser Merlin corrects himself - something that touched the younger man despite how shocked he still got whenever his king showed him even a subtle form of affection in public.

But Merlin can see the people need more. They need to hear the fear from someone’s who’s lived it. Who’s (mostly) overcome it, and to whom they can look for hope that they can do the same. Arthur had told him he would take care of the talking, that Merlin only had to worry about the second half of the plan, but the pompous old noble’s question is too good of an opportunity to pass up and words fly out of his mouth before he can even think to stop them.

He swallowed hard as all the attention now turned on him. Stepping up next to Arthur he pinned the questioner in place with a look half sad, half determined. Feeling the king’s questioning gaze he glanced to the side, silently asking for permission to continue. Arthur studied him for half a heartbeat before nodding in silent understanding of his need and stepping back, far enough to give him space to deal with the issue, but still where he was in full view and could offer support if needed.

Merlin took a moment to gather his thoughts as he turned his head from side to side, taking in each and every one of the people gathered.

“I ask you, why do you lock your doors at night? Why do you keep your children in sight when outside or avoid walking alone down a dark alleyway? Do you do it out of a fear of magic? No. Your fear is of people. Of people who are out to steal, or ransom, or murder. Answer me this, if a man held a knife to your throat, would you be afraid of the knife or of the hand that wielded it?” He paused holding their collective gaze while that thought sunk in, then continued in a voice soft and unchallenging.“You have every right to fear a person who would do you harm. And for those of us with magic, I admit it can be used as an implement of harm. But really what can’t?” He wrinkled his nose, “Seriously I’ve hurt myself worse with a sewing needle then I ever have with a sword.” A few smothered chuckles broke out amongst the townspeople which lifted a little of the worry in his chest. At least some of them were listening. “But nothing, no weapon mortal or magical, causes more harm than fear. Our fear of you and your fear of us.“

Addressing the nobleman he’d ignored until now he said, “You claim users of magic are bound by no law but I assure you that is not the case. We are bound by laws no man has ever put in writing. We are bound by the earth, by the sky, by the very blood that runs through our veins and those of whom we love. And by a deeper, darker fear than you will ever understand.” By this point he’d moved to be eye to eye with the other man, but now he took a step back to address the crowd again.

“I’ve feared my magic most of my life. To begin with I feared it because my mother did. You see I was born already able to use my power, and from the time I could understand, she drilled a single thought into my head over and over again - ‘tell no one’. I didn’t know why, I didn’t know why she was so afraid of me. I was three years old the first time I asked her if I was a monster.” He hears gasps all around and the next words almost get stuck in his throat. Only twice in his life has he been able to talk those early feelings. “I didn’t feel like a monster, but it was the only thing that made sense at the time. How many of you would wish that on your child? Well if you continue to propagate an atmosphere of distrust and ignorance that’s exactly what they are going to think.

“As I got older I realized her fear was for me not of me. But I didn’t truly understand why until I saw a man die in this courtyard the very day I arrived in Camelot. For no other reason then he had a skill someone else didn’t like. Even then I was more angry than frightened. I had that same gift and I had been proud of it, and yet once again if anyone found out I’d be the next one on the block. Or worse,” he added, no one needing to guess what he was referring too.

He paused, trying to moisten a suddenly dry mouth. “Then, as time went by I discovered one more fear. One I’d never known before, and the one that I am convinced turns more of us to evil than even the fear of burning can. And that is the fear of looking at someone you love, telling them the truth about who you are, and seeing everything you had, everything you’d worked for, disappear. Seeing the change in their eyes, seeing them be overcome by all the lies you’d told, all the secrets you kept to save your own life - to save their life. Seeing it all fade away and cease to matter because suddenly you are nothing but the monster of their childhood storybooks.”

He’s got them on that one he can tell, though he purposely doesn’t look at Arthur. The dollophead’s better with emotions now, but Merlin has a feeling the look on his face brought on by that particular memory wouldn’t be good for either of them right now.   

“If that’s the case why did you stay?” Curse that man, but he would interrupt now. Still Merlin refused to be cowed.

“That’s a very good question,” he said turning to the smug looking noble. “Why did I stay? What compelled me to face every single one of those fears? I’ll tell you why. It was because for all the acts of fear and aggression, I could see hope through it all too. That first day I arrived here, the day a man died? A man’s life was saved that day too. A man who’s then gone on to save countless other lives. All because my power was in the right place at the right time. And I saw that he wasn’t afraid - of magic or me. I asked if he was going to say anything about what happened, and he told me the only thing that needed to be said was ‘thank you.’” Glancing back at the king, Merlin managed a slightly cheeky grin, “My magic saved someone else two days later, but not much good came from that so I won’t go into it.”

Numerous laughs from all around followed this statement, some more like gasps, some hearty chuckles. Thankfully Arthur’s was one of the latter, although the look in his eye promised Merlin a healthy swat upside the head the moment they were alone. After a moment all was serious again and Merlin took a deep breath steadying himself before making his final plea.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to not have to hide. To not live feeling hunted and afraid. To be able to walk down the street and have someone see me for who I am, a person. Maybe a person with a power others didn’t understand but a person nonetheless. To know that a garden can be grown, or fire can be lit, or a life can be saved, and it doesn’t matter how. To have children be born who will never have to live in fear of this pyre ever again.”

He shared another glance with Arthur then added, “You have the king’s word, and for those of you who would accept it mine as well, that this one will be the last ever lit in this city for as long as we both shall live.”

“But today that lighting is going to be a bit different,” Arthur announced moving past him to address the crowd again. “To those of you who have lost someone to these fires, to those of you have faced the threat of them yourself this is your chance to put that fear to rest. I would ask anyone who wishes to step forward and take one of the torches are being brought out.”

A flurry of guards and armsman appeared carrying long poles wrapped in oilcloth but dry and unlit. Some minutes passed but slowly, one by one people started taking them. Some young, who truly believed this to be the chance they’d been praying for, and others old and beaten down but holding fast in memory of those no longer with them. In all about twenty townsmen and women formed a ring around the massive wood pile.

When the noblemen who’d been objecting and one or two of the ones on his side tried to protest, they were swiftly ushered into a far corner of the yard and held there with strict orders to be seen and not heard. Whoever else that might have objected took this as a sign that the balance of power had well and truly shifted, and chose not challenge the king’s promise of retribution on those who caused deliberate and unnecessary harm to those under Camelot’s protection.

Once the crowd had settled Arthur gave Merlin a nudge and, when the other man turned to him, gestured toward the pyre. “You want to take it from here?” he asked seriously.

His friend gave him a grateful look. “Yes Sire, with your permission I think I do.”

With a nod Arthur retreated back to where Gwen was standing, a proud and excited smile on her face that made her look younger than he’d seen in a long time. He grasped her hand tightly and waited for the climax of the day’s events.

Merlin took another deep breath and found he had one last thing to say to those who stood around him patiently holding the torches. “I can’t thank you enough for the trust that you are showing. I know how difficult that is, and I know how desperately it’s needed. I believe in Albion, I always have, but if it’s going to last it’s going to take all of us. And if we are always watching over our shoulders we’ll never be able to move forward. So that said, I have one last favor to ask of you. Some of you might not be able to do it, and that’s okay, but for those of you who can, as this pyre burns, I ask that you let your fear burn with it. Your fear of magic, your fear for your life, your fear of having to choose between the two. Because this pyre may burn, but if what it represents remains, it might as well stay here untouched. I know I couldn’t live with that and I don’t think any of you could either.”

Watching them closely he saw most still looked unsure, but they all nodded and a few wore the beginnings of a hopeful smile which he couldn’t help but respond to. Directing each of them to set their torches down amongst the stacks of wood, he turned and beckoned to the Druid leader. Responding to his whispered request the older man crossed quickly to the edge of crowd. He took the hand of a red haired girl about six or seven years old who was standing in the front row and brought her back over to where Merlin stood.

The young adviser crouched and smiled at the girl who wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug pulling a chuckle from both men.

“It’s good to see you too Yenia. Have you been practicing what I asked you about?”

The girl nodded seriously. “I made it last for two minutes yesterday.”

“Good you can help me then. Unless you’d rather do the honors yourself Iseldir?” Merlin asked looking up at the Druid leader.

The other man shook his head immediately. “Thank you my lord, but this honor is yours. We are here because of you Emrys, you should have the lead now.”

“We are here for many reasons” Merlin countered. “And you should have part in this, you have as much right to lead as I do.”

The Druid smiled at the familiar argument. He knew the time would come when the King’s guardian would fully accept everything his role asked of him, but for now Emrys was still so young. So eager to please others even at the cost of what was rightfully his. If it would be better to humor the stubborn man then for now that’s what Iseldir would do. Bowing his head in acquiescence he took a step back allowing Merlin space to stand, scooping the small girl into his strong arms as he did so.

Tucking Yenia securely against his side Merlin turned back to the townspeople who, task complete, had been listening to his and Iseldir’s exchange with mystified expressions. _‘Oh was there a lot still left to explain.’_ Shaking that thought away for now he gave the crowd a small smile.

“You might want to move.”

They quickly took his meaning and scrambled off to the side a fair distance from the as yet unlit pile of wood, clearly understanding that it was not going to remain that way much longer.

Lifting his right arm Merlin held his his hand upright, palm outward and waited for Yenia and Iseldir to do the same. A single whispered word left their lips and the whole pyre erupted in a blaze of orange flame.

Such a powerful result from such a small amount of effort caused a ripple of unease throughout the crowd, but as the fire rose higher and higher without so much a single spark leaving the boundary of the conflagration they gradually relaxed. Visually the scene was nearly identical to what they had all witnessed before, but there was a blessed silence about the affair.  No screams, no gasps of horror or barely smothered sobs, not a sound but quiet crackling of the wood and the murmur of a curious child.

The fire didn’t burn for long - at least no longer than a fire lit by conventional means. Before they knew it the flames had withered to embers and the enormous pile of wood was nothing more than smoke and ash.

Arthur waited a significant period of time before approaching the edge of the pyre’s remains and with a few words dismissed those that remained gathered beside it. No one was anxious to leave, the peace of the moment settling something inside many of them that they hadn’t known needed settling, however one by one they followed his command. Only then did the king turn to look at Merlin.

His friend seemed a little dazed in the aftermath of such an emotional afternoon, but Arthur was pleased to see that while Merlin’s eyes were a bit red around the edges, his face was dry and he seemed to have lost some of the heavy weight he’d been carrying for the past few years. That was a victory a long time coming. Now if he could only get him to accept an official place at court...Ah well that was a battle for another day.

After offering a quiet word of appreciation to Iseldir, who took charge of returning the child to her mother, the king clasped an arm around of his best friend’s shoulders and steered him back toward the front of the castle.

As they entered, Arthur reminded himself that this day would not be a cure all for the decades long hurt that had plagued his kingdom, but it was a good step. And if the feeling of hope and joy that blossomed inside him at the sound of Merlin’s murmured “thank you” was any indication, he had plenty of motivation to keep taking steps.

Until none of his people would look at him with fear in their eyes ever again.            

 

                                                                                                            The End

 


End file.
